


A Change of Heart

by marleymars



Series: Attachment Theory [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, armin having feelings and junk, i don't wanna talk about it, oh and some porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marleymars/pseuds/marleymars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin thinks too much. When an issue arises he has to examine it exhaustively and from every angle until he makes up his mind. He also wants to seduce Irwin, but he's pretty transparent about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like an hour, don't look at me. 
> 
> It's basically filler that I wrote to fit between the last part and the next part. The next one is already written--mostly--but I decided it didn't really make sense, so here's this one to explain things kind of. Or maybe I'm just weird.

Armin was in trouble, but it was the kind of trouble that had the potential to lead to something good. Irwin lay beside him on his massive bed, reading some stack of paperwork that the blond admittedly had no interest in. What he was interested in was the man. Irwin. Sitting there in a t-shirt and briefs, focused on the papers in his hands. God, he was distracting.

He took a surreptitious glance at him every so often. Armin was naked but for his underwear, and pretending to play with his phone. They had already had sex, but they might do it again. Correction; they _would_ do it again. Armin wanted to, and he knew if he initiated it Irwin wouldn’t deny him. But this time he didn’t want to be the one who got things started. It felt like it was _always_ him. The unfairly handsome man lying beside him seemed content with this, to let Armin make the decision, as if he preferred it that way.

Half the time, though, he really had to work him up for it. Just leaning over and kissing him was no fun. If he was gentle, then Irwin would be gentle. He would touch his body, make him feel good, but he wouldn’t fuck him into the mattress. Armin was starting to find that he really did prefer it that way—rough—and for some reason the thought always brought a blush to his face. They had literally had screaming hot sex an hour ago, but if he thought about the way Irwin pounded into him and made him beg he would flush hot with embarrassment. _Was it really me doing those things?_ He had to wonder sometimes what had happened to shy little Armin. These were not things he had ever done with his ex-boyfriend, Jean.

Maybe that was the difference. Irwin wasn’t his boyfriend. He was a man that Armin was sleeping with. Their relationship was built mainly around fucking, though there were moments where he caught glimpses of a man who could be caring. The first time they had met, Irwin had seemed sincerely concerned for his wellbeing, but he was quickly finding out that that was not his usual personality. For the most part he was silent, commanding, and almost rigidly disciplined.

All of those things combined just so happened to enable Irwin Smith to turn Armin’s usually sharp mind into an irrational mush. Once he had stopped dancing around the issue and accepted that he wanted the older man, this had been easier to deal with. He could cope, but when he found he wanted Irwin, when he had to have him, just simple sex wouldn’t do. He needed something rougher, because when Irwin was gentle, when he touched Armin like he was something special it felt like a lie. He needed to be fucked, because if it was just sex he wouldn’t be able to handle their relationship.

There was a feeling in his chest when he looked at Irwin, though. He had to bury that feeling, because he knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere but to more pain. Irwin was nearly fifteen years his senior. That type of connection to him was not something he should be thinking about, but he couldn’t help it sometimes. Irwin was serious and imposing, but the moments when he was kind made Armin’s heart ache. The moments when the blond could make that serious, stoic façade crack, when he made Irwin lose control, it made Armin feel _powerful_. It was not something he was used to feeling, and he reveled in it.

In truth there was nothing he wanted more than for Irwin to be warm with him, but if he did so and he didn’t mean it then it just made things worse. If Irwin didn’t feel that way about him then Armin could accept what they had. Even though it was empty it made him feel good, and he would rather have that than nothing at all.

So how to make Irwin want Armin as much as Armin wanted him? He knew he wasn’t much to look at. He was short, and not very muscular, but at least he was leaner than he used to be. Once upon a time he’d just been tiny and soft, but at least his job had given him a measure of strength. Irwin seemed to like his hair, though. He liked to grab it, and run his fingers through it, and just the thought of it sent tremors down Armin’s spine.

With a plan already formulating in his mind he made a great show of shivering and shifting closer to the older man. Irwin was sitting up in bed, and Armin moved so that his head rested at the CEO’s hip, within easy reach of the man’s hand. “Cold?” Irwin asked.

“A little,” Armin said. He wasn’t. His body felt hot and cozy, so even if the room had been cold he wouldn’t have noticed. A hand found its way to his hair, a hand with long fingers that turned his insides into quivering jelly, and was now stroking his scalp. He held in a sigh, and leaned into Irwin’s body, nuzzling his solidity.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” Irwin suggested. His hand didn’t pull away just yet, and Armin didn’t want it to.

“I’m too comfortable,” he mumbled. The hand slipped down and cupped Armin’s face, tilting it back until he was looking Irwin in the eyes. “What?” he asked with feigned innocence.

Irwin ran a thumb across his bottom lip. “I have to finish these reports.”

“What’s stopping you?” he asked as the digit pressed down on his lip. He opened his mouth and his tongue slipped out, lapping slowly at the ball of the thumb. He never looked away from Irwin’s fixed gaze, his steely, striking eyes.

Irwin took his hand away, stroked it backward down the blond’s reddened cheek. “Come here.” Armin moved with embarrassing speed, straddling Irwin’s lap as he set the paperwork carefully aside. His blood was thrumming already, and Irwin had placed a hand on his waist, tracing the line of his hipbone where it rose out of his underwear. Armin smiled at him, and laid a hand on his chest. He could feel the older man’s heartbeat through his shirt, feel the muscle layered over muscle. He was so strong to be so gentle.

“Irwin.” He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but there was some nameless emotion bubbling up his throat, and he was afraid what would happen if he let it reach his mouth. So he kept the words in by pressing his lips to Irwin’s, curling his arms around the strong neck and shoulders as he was pulled tight against the older man’s torso. It didn’t take much these days to arouse him—he could feel Irwin through the thin material of his boxers, how hard he already was, and it made his body respond in kind.

His mouth was held captive by a kiss that made his head spin, clearing out all rational thought like a great all-encompassing wave. Irwin’s tongue swept underneath his, and he sighed because just _kissing_ had never made him feel so good before. He shifted then, and their cocks rubbed together; the resultant friction elicited a high, needful whine from the blond. Armin found that his hips moved instinctively to seek that same clothed contact. What had Irwin reduced him to? He was hopeless and it was all the fault of the man below him, the one who was slipping a hand into his underwear to palm him.

“Your hands are cold,” Armin whispered to him, arching into his hand anyway because the cold actually didn’t feel all that bad.

“You’d have been able to warm up if you’d taken a shower.”

“I’ll do it if you join me.” Irwin’s only response to that was to free his own cock, releasing it from his briefs and holding it together with Armin’s in his hand. It was so hot and throbbing, and Irwin’s cold hand squeezing them together was just too much for him to bear. “That feels good,” he groaned, pressing his head against the older man’s collar bone as his hand began to move. Sometimes this whole situation of theirs felt like something intangible, like it was just a fantasy Armin had created in his head. Maybe he was a patient in a mental ward somewhere just imagining that all of this was happening to him. Then Irwin squeezed him a little too hard, and his yelp of pleasure sent him crashing back into reality, and he realized he was pumping his hips in time with the older man’s hand.

He had to wonder what Irwin thought of him when he got like this. Did he think Armin was just some wanton little pleasure addict, did he maybe wonder if he was the only one the blond did these things with? No, Irwin knew that the only other person Armin had ever been with was Jean. It made him want to tell the older man that he was the only one who saw this side of him, that Irwin was the only one who had ever made him feel like this.

Fear kept his mouth shut, though. Something told him Irwin wouldn’t want to hear those things, and he was certain if he told him then whatever this was that they had would all come to a screaming halt. Armin wasn’t ready for that. Maybe one day he would get over himself, get this all out of his system and be able to find a nice guy his own age to be with. That’s what he was supposed to want, what he should have wanted, but there was something vastly unappealing about the images it brought to mind. Jean had been a “nice guy” after all, and look how that had turned out.

There was something hot inside him, something coiling just below his cock, and he urged Irwin on with cries of pleasure that increased in pitch and volume with every pass of his hand. The pressure built until it exploded out, and he clung to the solid body beneath him as if he feared he would float away if he let go. His thoughts slowly collected themselves, creeping back in through the burning incoherence in his mind, and he realized Irwin was still holding him.

“I ruined your shirt,” he muttered. It was the first thought that occurred to him, and he had no filter at the moment through which to strain his observances.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried. It was your own fault.” Armin had wanted to be fucked again, but he decided this was just as good. Whatever Irwin wanted to do to him was fine, as long as he could stay close to him like this. He could hear his heartbeat now, and it was the most soothing noise. Some deep, primal instinct in him was comforted by this sound, and he found himself quickly spiraling down into sleep. _I have to do something about this_ , he thought. There had to be a way, some way to make something more of this than what it was. He wanted to know more about the man whose heartbeat had lulled him to sleep than where on his body he liked to be bitten, or that he responded so well to being teased.

They had barely known one another for two whole months. Perhaps it had happened too quickly, but Armin didn’t care. It was Irwin’s fault, and Armin decided that it was his job to make sure that he was held responsible for his actions.


End file.
